Jak Koke - Stranger souls

"They took a human who is very important to us," Roxborough said. "His name is Ryan Mercury, and he was a spy. It is important that he be caught. I'd like him back alive. What are the chances of picking them up again?"

Franklinson paced around the table. "They escaped in a Saeder-Krupp Phoenix II LAV. Very fast and hard to spot on satellite images, but I think they were making for the Canal Zone border. I can contact the security there and have them double their surveillance coverage. If they try to cross there, I'm sure we'll get them."

"I hope so," said Riese, "because that man represents a huge investment of time and effort. He was nearly ready for-"

"Don't forget money, Miss Riese," Roxborough interrupted. "The bottom line." But that's not what he was really thinking. Mercury was his best hope to get out of the vat. That body was perfect.

Riese was still talking. "The loss to the advancement of metahuman science would be devastating if we can't monitor what happens as the treatment runs its course."

Franklinson stopped pacing. "Like I said, there is an excellent chance we'll catch them at the border."

"Good," Roxborough said. Then he turned to face the elf, Meyer. "I know you wanted to abort this subject a long time ago, and I may yet give you that chance. I'd like you to prepare your team for a ritual magic execution. Can you do that?"

A sardonic grin formed on the elf's thin face. "For Mercury?"

Roxborough nodded.

"Yes," Meyer said. "We have the tissue samples. It should only take a few hours to prepare."

Riese jumped in, looking right at Roxborough's simulacrum. "Why would you want to kill him?"

"I don't want Mercury dead, but I can't allow him to escape," Roxborough said, then turned back to Meyer. "If the border patrol fails to intercept our beloved experiment, proceed with the ritual magic execution. I want him back here or dead."

Because, he thought, / can't take the chance that he'll escape with my personality, my memories. My secrets.

Inside the Thunderbird, rocketing just above the jungle canopy, Ryan contemplated his past. He seemed to have two distinct histories. One he was beginning to remember. He had been in a different body-a fat, weak body plagued by fatigue. Still, he'd been a powerful man. Respected and rich. Important, until a terrible disease had tried to strike him down.

The other past was a mystery that he had no recollection of. These people had known him: Axler, Grind, Jane-in-the-box, and the others. He had been a warrior of some sort. Perhaps a thief. Certainly a dangerous person with a questionable sense of morality.

Random memories had been coming to him from his Roxborough past. Disjointed and without context. In one, he looked at the face of an elf slitch… What was her name? She wore a business suit, perfectly pressed, and her face was as hard as chiseled diamond. Immutable. She had short-clipped blonde hair and was an excellent executive. He respected her for that.

Sheila Blatavska. The name jumped into his head. CEO of the Atlantean Foundation-an organization that was more extensive and wielded far more power than it had a right to. It was dedicated to the rediscovery of lost civilizations like Atlantis, and in the course of its mission had discovered a number of ancient, and supposedly very powerful, magical items. According to his sources, Blatavska had major backing from elves of both the Tirs, and possibly from some dragons.

In the memory, she said, "I would like you to consider this trade. A few of the items in our inventory may be useful to your… predicament."

"And in exchange," he said, "you want permission to conduct archaeological digs in the two specified locations?"

A tight smile crossed her face. "I had hoped you might be able to make your cohorts reconsider my request to participate in the San Marcos dig as well."

"I'm sorry, I can't do that. My influence in that regard is minimal."

"But you control a large share of-"

"You seem to have an exaggerated view of my influence." Roxborough smiled. "Anyhow, forget about the San Marcos site. It's not available."

The elf merely nodded.

Roxborough continued, "I will send my head mage, James Meyer, to inspect these items you spoke of, and meanwhile, I will get you the digging rights for the other two locations. Deal?"

"There is another possibility," she said. "Yes?"

"Have your mages perfected the orichalcum tracing rituals?"

"Perhaps," Roxborough said. "Why?" "Well, to be frank," she said, "we haven't worked out all of the problems and were hoping to use the rituals soon." "What for?"

"Ah, my dear Mr. Roxborough," Blatavsky said, giving him a smile. "Do I detect interest?"

"What do you want the rituals for?"

"Dunkelzahn has been purchasing vast quantities of orichalcum through various fronts, and we suspect he is in the process of making something very powerful."

"And you want it." It was not a question.

"Of course," she said. "We'd like your help with the rituals… if your mages really can do the tracing."

"What do you offer in exchange?"

"We will show your mages how to perfect the spirit transfer that you so desperately crave."

The memory dissipated in Ryan's mind. When had that been? he wondered. How long ago? It frustrated him that he had no context for it.

Now, inside the rumbling shell of the Thunderbird, he took a deep breath. The tension of Axler and the team was

high, and that mood had infected Ryan. One missile hit, and they would all be indistinguishable from the shrapnel.

"Border guard is requesting security clearance codes," Axler said. "Put-up-or-shut-up time."

"Transmitting the codes now," came Dhin's voice. "Let's hope Jane comes through again."

"How're we hoping to get past their security?" Ryan asked.

"The codes were stolen from one of Aztechnology's own T-birds," Axler said. "Top level, according to Jane, and beyond question. I just hope they don't know that they've been copped."

"It's going to be a real short trip if they do," said Grind.

McFaren slept, or looked as though he was sleeping. Ryan knew that he could be projecting into the astral plane, watching for spirits or mages. The T-bird banked right and slowed a little.

"We're three klicks from the Canal Zone," Dhin said. "I'm bringing us over nice and easy, like Jane said." "The codes?" asked Grind. "Did they accept the codes?" "No data yet."

"Isn't it taking too long?" Grind said, his voice edged with anxiety. "They should've cleared us by now."

"Stay on course, Dhin," came Axler. "Don't stray until you see some offensive enemy activity."

"Copy," Dhin said. "Holding course."

"But-"

"Codes confirmed," came Axler. "Repeat, I've just got a routine confirmation."

Dhin came on. "Copy and second that. We're clear for exit from Aztlan."

"I don't like it. Too much delay," said Grind.

Jane-in-the-box's voice came on. "Neither do I. Stay alert, chummers. This could be an ambush of some kind."

"Copy," said Axler. "Staying sharp. Full radar sweep."

"Incoming fighters!" came Dhin's voice at full volume. "Repeat, incoming bogeys. We have company."

"Fragging ambush is right!" yelled Grind. "There are four Azzie warbirds vectoring in."

Axler interrupted, "They'll try to take us down on this side

of the border. So as not to risk international war in the Canal Zone."

Jane's voice filled the cabin. "Plan Beta," she said. "Immediately. Go to Plan Beta." "Acknowledged," said Axler. "Copy." That was Dhin's voice.

Ryan was thrown into the hard foam of his chair as the T-bird banked abruptly right and opened up to full throttle. Jets screamed as they angled south toward the Gulf of Panama. He pushed himself upright in the chair. "Anything I can do to help?" he asked.